


Secret

by a_pocket_full_of_fancy_words



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies), Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Awkward Sexual Situations, Cuddling & Snuggling, Frottage, M/M, Sleepy Cuddles, Sleepy Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-08
Updated: 2013-12-08
Packaged: 2018-01-04 01:06:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,315
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1075245
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/a_pocket_full_of_fancy_words/pseuds/a_pocket_full_of_fancy_words
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for the prompt: Spock is a secret snuggler.</p><p>“Vulcans don’t like physical contact.”<br/>Spock on the other hand just finds it illogical and unnecessary.<br/>It therefore surprises Bones that he is what he would describe as a “secret snuggler”.<br/>It is not entirely a welcome discovery.<br/>It accompanies the similarly surprising revelation that, when not in sick bay, Spock does not in fact lie down and wake up in the very same position, but moves about in the night. Quite a lot.<br/>So much so, in fact, that when McCoy awakes in the night, it is because he is in Leonard’s sleeping bag. Actually in it. Spock is still in his own bag, but now that bag is inside Leonard’s sleeping bag, alongside Spock, alongside the only one who it was actually made to contain.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Secret

“Vulcans don’t like physical contact.”

Spock on the other hand just finds it illogical and unnecessary.

It therefore surprises Bones that he is what he would describe as a “secret snuggler”.

It is not entirely a welcome discovery.

It accompanies the similarly surprising revelation that, when not in sick bay, Spock does not in fact lie down and wake up in the very same position, but moves about in the night. Quite a lot.

So much so, in fact, that when McCoy awakes in the night, it is because he is  _in_ Leonard’s sleeping bag. Actually in it. Spock is still in his own bag, but now that bag is inside Leonard’s sleeping bag, alongside Spock, alongside the only one who it was actually made to contain.

 

It is the first time since losing the away team that they’ve actually been able to catch some rest, endless trekking through the unforgivable environment, avoiding curious locals left and right whilst trying to contact the Enterprise and to find a shelter that wasn’t already occupied.

Their current residence was a crack in the rock, but the natives were broadly reliant on natural shelters and even those were few and far between; they ought to be grateful, even if it’s only two by three metres.

One metre hadn’t been much for Spock to migrate across, Leonard reasons; he’s probably just squashed himself into what is distinctly marked out as McCoy’s personal space by some spectacular accident. And now he’s just seeking warmth. It’s cold out there, snowy, and the walls of their poor excuse for a cave are slick with condensation.

McCoy resolves to ignore it and try to sleep in his dramatically compromised space. Spock has other ideas. He shifts and struggles in his sleep until his arms are free – how he engineered getting inside Leonard’s sleeping bag without arms, no one will ever know – to snake around McCoy’s uncomfortable body. The arms are long, warm and startlingly bare.

Spock went to bed dressed, but apparently he didn’t need all those clothes when leeching Leonard’s body head in the dual confines of their sleeping bags; so why wouldn’t his sleeping brain discard them as unnecessary?

Spock is still sound asleep, and McCoy is  _almost_  too exhausted to stay awake through this; he’s also  _almost_  mean enough to kick Spock out, but since he isn’t, he doesn’t.

He dozes lightly instead, until he hears a sound. A tiny  _pop!_  And then another, and another, and then the repeated vibration that signals the zipper on Spock’s sleeping bag is coming undone from the awkward way his arms are stressing the fabric.

Spock’s warm body slides out of the bag, naked and heavy and hooking a leg over Bones’ hip. His cock is pressed against Leonard’s crotch, and if he’s not mistaken, it’s _not soft enough_. Spock doesn’t have a raging hard-on, but there’s definite intent in the way he shifts when he next does.

McCoy is suddenly very awake indeed, as unfortunately is McCoy junior, reaching up through his boxers to meet Spock.

He chokes slightly on panic and grips Spock by the shoulders, shaking him to alertness.

Spock mumbles for a moment, moving around in a way that smashes their semis together before he takes in the face of the CMO through bleary eyes.

Leonard groans, and its not all sleep deprivation.

“Doctor?” Spock asks. “Please explain our current situation.”

McCoy does not have an explanation. “I don’t know! I just woke up and a hobgoblin had magically just appeared in my sleeping bag! You got in here and you didn’t even have the decency to put some clothes on! Don’t blame me!”

Instead of looking resentful or refusing to believe it, Spock goes quiet. Clearly this is not the first time someone has reported him being a particularly active sleeper.

“My apologies, I will… Extricate myself.” And he tries to, but they’re both tired and it’s dark, and all that seems to happen is that Leonard ends up with the toggles to Spock’s sleeping bag caught under his weight and Spock’s thigh wedged between his legs, and now the heat is all gone, escaping into the cave with every gush of cold air.

“Shit, this isn’t working,” He grouses. When Spock is still struggling he has to grab his shoulders again, inwardly kicking himself because Spock is so warm and so naked and _bare_. “Stop.”

Spock stops, tangled with too many limbs and too much constrictive fabric. Leonard can feel the Vulcan’s dick against his belly, heavy and hard.

“Lets just… Go back to sleep. You’re just gonna make us both cold.” He turns his head away and pointedly demonstrates the act of closing one's eyes, but Spock doesn’t seem to understand.

“You have a problem, Doctor.” Spock says. He doesn’t indicate, but they both know that he’s talking about.

“The first step is admitting it Mister Spock, so it’s about time you realised that the problem is mutual.” He grumbles.

He knows Spock can’t  _get_ further away, but his breath tickles McCoy’s ear invitingly as he dedpans, “What do you propose to do about it?”

Leonard’s cock jumps and fills immediately and he curses under his breath, because Spock  _can’t not_  notice. He grunts. “Ain’t a lot we  _can_  do right now.”

But Spock clearly begs to differ, because he shuffles down again, dragging Bones’ boxers with him until both their “problems” are pressed against each other, hard and slick at the tip.

Leonard grinds up. It’s a bit too rough, there’s no lube besides precum, but it’s lazy and warm and good, and they rut against each other, panting. Spock aligns the head of his cock with McCoy’s, teasing the underside with his own ridged head and tiny, teasing jerks of his hips. His arms are back on Bones’ body; or rather, his right arm is trapped beneath it, and his left is trapped between the two of them, pressing along his chest until he finds a nipple, tugging and rubbing and playing with it.

Their cocks slip rhythmically past each other, against each other’s abdomen and dragging precum along skin.

McCoy isn’t sure if it’s okay for them to kiss, but he wants to, and he leans past the spare inches between them. Spock’s kiss is chaste, gentle, belying the obscene way that he grinds and fucks into Leonard’s cock, and the filthy noises that hang on his lips, only slipping out briefly to be swallowed back down, as though he has something to save.

Bones is too tired to do anything but groan loudly into that kiss, shoving his tongue forcibly between soft lips as he comes up the underside of Spock’s member, fingers digging into Spock’s shoulder. Spock allows the deepened kiss and carries it through as he fucks himself against McCoy’s semen-slick, softening cock, filling the cave with the wet slap of skin on skin and needy, breathy gasps.

His blunt nails scratch Leonard’s chest, catching his nipple as Spock ejaculates with a whimper, the only true vocalised sound he’s made since they began, biting his McCoy’s lip briefly before shoving his head under the older man’s chin and squeezing him tightly, riding it out against his thigh.

They lie there panting, each unsure of whether they are meant to acknowledge what just happened. There’s no room for an elephant in this room, so Leonard tilts his chin and kisses Spock’s sweaty brow. They both squirm, uncomfortably warm and sticky with cum, but the afterglow is there and there’s nothing to be done about it till morning.

Eventually they find a position where no one is being elbowed or losing circulation, and Spock settles with his head on Leonard’s chest and their legs unavoidably tangled together, breathing softly and slowly as he winds himself down to go back to sleep.

And this is how Leonard discovers that Spock likes to snuggle.


End file.
